


Booze, Beads, Boys

by MindNoise



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Adam Lambert/Tommy Ratliff - Fandom, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindNoise/pseuds/MindNoise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy's first Mardi Gras</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booze, Beads, Boys

**Author's Note:**

> my first fanfic. not as porny as it could be, but this is my first time writing porn. all mistakes are my own.  
> & none of this is true.

Booze, Beads, Boys

Tommy watches the scene before him. Beads, booze, skin, debauchery. This is the hailed Mardi Gras of New Orleans. True the city is steeped in the stench of garbage and wet pavement on a daily basis, but after a day or two you cease to notice. Tonight the air is laden with alcohol, colors, lights, and temporary madness. There isn’t a sober person in the city right now and Tommy Joe is no exception. He isn’t completely trashed, but he has a fantastic buzz going. The streets are crowded, shoulder to shoulder people, sweating and falling and laughing. There are floats pushing slowly through the narrow streets, masked riders tossing glittering strings of multicolored beads to the screaming masses. Most are caught by overzealous watchers; others hit the ground, break, and slide underfoot. The alleyways are littered with bottles, broken beads, crushed masks, people vomiting, and strangers making out.  
Tommy is fascinated. This is his first Mardi Gras. He stumbles along, lingering, watching. Finishing his second potent Hurricane he drops the to-go cup on the sidewalk. He trips and the colored beads around his neck bounce, hitting him in the nose. He giggles at himself, looking around to see if anyone noticed. Nope, just him, which makes him giggle more.  
When he glances down he notices something fairly large and narrow, kind of an oval shape moving along the shadowy wall of the building to his right. Squinting and leaning in, Tommy notices it’s a Louisiana roach. Dark, large, creepy, skittering along the wall.  
“Holy fucking shit,” he squeaks, jumping backwards into a body that drunkenly shoves back. Still fixated on the bug as though it might hop off the wall and eat his face any second, Tommy continues moving backwards until his back hits a lamp post. The roach, oblivious to its effect on Tommy, continues on through a crack in the stone and disappears. Tommy shivers, rolling around the lamp post from back to side as he turns to face the street. He shudders again, shaking off the ghastly sight of the bug and tries to refocus on the mass party he’s in the middle of.  
He feels the back of his neck begin to tingle. Tommy shrugs, thinking it’s a lingering reaction of seeing the roach. But this doesn’t feel like a creepy crawly tingle. This tingle is actually a heat and it’s growing. He turns. The man is standing on the balcony, leaning on the iron railing. His gaze is set hard on Tommy. He’s dressed all in black including a long black coat and a mask that covers the top half of his face, silver fading into black around the sides. The light catches hints of red glitter on its edges. The only facial features Tommy can see are the man’s eyes and mouth. He’s tall, so tall, towering on the balcony, looking down on Tommy. His hair is black, spiked and twisted into carefully placed chaos. Tommy’s breath catches and his mouth goes dry. The heat that started in the back of his neck spreads down through his chest, his stomach, his legs. His knees weaken and shake. The loud bacchanal sounds of Mardi Gras fade and Tommy can only hear his heart beating and his quickened breaths. One corner of the man’s mouth lifts in a smirk. He straightens up and lifts a ridiculously long leg over the railing. His intention is clear - come for his prey.  
Tommy backs into the street, eyes still fixed on the man, hypnotized as he jumps the rail. He is bumped from behind, breaking the spell, and he turns and hurries into the crowd, glancing back every few feet. The man is following. His pace is unhurried and sure; he hasn’t lost sight of Tommy at all. Tommy knows he’s being stalked and he tries not to panic. The crowd, the event, nothing is going to help him. Nothing is going to hide him from this. He hurries faster. When he pauses to look back one more time, he can no longer see the man. He must’ve lost him. Tommy breathes deep, feeling his muscles shake a little as they begin to relax. Suddenly sober, he decides to call it a night, go back to the hotel. He rubs his eyes and starts down the street, away from the party. Arms wrap around his chest from behind and he’s lifted up and swung into the side alleyway. A hard body pushes him against the wall, pressing him into the brick, holding him still. He whimpers at the suddenness of it all.  
Then the voice in his ear, “Hush, pretty. Not yet. You can’t scream until I make you.”  
The tip of a tongue slides up the back edge of Tommy’s ear, making him quiver. The man from the balcony bends his head down, taking the beads around Tommy’s neck into his mouth. Tommy looks into unreal blue eyes. His throat closes as those eyes devour him. The man rips the beads off Tommy’s neck with his mouth and they scatter to the ground, bouncing and rolling underfoot. Tommy’s heart is pounding, and his cock is pulsing and filling with each hyper beat. A hand, strong and gripping, slides down his left side, feeling him, moving over his waist and stopping over his quickly growing bulge.  
“Ooh,” the man purrs. “Is that for me?”  
While the man’s right hand holds Tommy in place, his left presses and pulls Tommy further back into his body. Tommy’s breathing speeds up when he feels the hard on pressed into his ass and he can sense that sly smile spreading across the stranger’s half hidden face. And those eyes.... those flaring and intense eyes, they will haunt Tommy for the rest of his days, devouring him for eternity. Oh yes, Tommy’s breath became faster and shallow.  
The man hummed and nuzzled the spot behind Tommy’s left ear, breathing in deeply.  
“I can smell your heat,” he whispered, giving Tommy’s very hard cock a seductive squeeze. “ I can taste your sweat. I can feel your pulse. It’s all for me, isn’t it?”  
Tommy whimpers with sudden need. Still cuddling Tommy’s ear, the man unbuttons Tommy’s pants and languidly slips his hand inside. Hot skin on hot skin, pulling, stroking. Without meaning to, Tommy lets out an unsuppressed groan and suddenly his pants are around his thighs. Two large wet fingers thrust into him and Tommy sucks in a shocked breath. He wasn’t quite ready for that. The man leans his head into Tommy’s neck, sighing roughly. The fingers don’t stay. They pull back abruptly to be replaced by the man’s solid cock. Tommy’s not stretched enough and it burns but then it begins to heighten what he’s feeling overall. Tommy’s stranger grips his small hips firmly, pushing, pulling, gasping, moaning. Tommy leans his head against the brick wall, face hot, body burning. It’s rough, it’s hot, it’s so dirty, and his nerves are on fire with manic lust. The man’s hips snap quicker, leaning further into him, pushing them both into the wall as if he can’t get far enough into Tommy. Their breathing becomes synchronized, shallow, desperate. That spot. He hits that one spot that makes Tommy’s vision blur and his hearing fade. His mouth drops open in silent desperation.  
“Go ahead, baby,” he pants in Tommy’s ear. “Scream, they won’t notice. Do it!”  
He hits it repeatedly, with purpose, and Tommy is shouting, they are both shouting, and time stands still while they drive toward that end. Tommy claws at the brick wall, his right cheek burning from being pressed and pushed against the rough surface. One final push, one final guttural cry, and both are coming hard, the man into Tommy, and Tommy onto the wall.  
The man slumps into Tommy making it hard for the smaller man to breathe. He meekly protests with a squeak.  
“Sorry, baby,” the man says, standing up, carefully pulling out.  
Tommy straightens up and turns around, a blissful smile on his face as the man puts him back together.  
“I love you, Adam,” he says, leaning in and pulling off Adam’s mask.  
“Love you, kitty.” Adam smiles, then frowns when he sees the scrape along Tommy’s right cheek from being pressed against the bricks. He tilts Tommy’s chin towards light, biting his own lip.  
Tommy takes his hand. “No, it’s okay. Totally worth it.” He looks at his lover with total adoration.  
“That was fun,” Adam says. “But I’m ready to get out of this dirty alley and back to our room.  
Tommy nods in agreement. He fits himself up under Adam’s arm, molding into the curve of Adam’s side body. He knows Adam will fret the rest of the night over the scrape on his face, will insist on taking care of it. And Tommy will let him. Adam will clean the scrape, kiss it softly, pamper Tommy’s soul, then fuck him slowly until the sun comes up. Yes. He’ll let Adam take care of him.  
“So, how do you like Mardi Gras?” Adam asked, amused.  
“Best thing ever,” Tommy said.  
He drops the mask onto the street and snuggles contentedly into Adam.


End file.
